Lowercase
by DSieya
Summary: What the Harry Potter world would be like without CAPSLOCK!Harry. [oneshot]


_i'm sick and tired of people calling harry whiny and overemotional from the fourth book on._

* * *

"Harry, are you sure you're alright?" 

Harry raised his eyes to meet Dumbledore's blue ones, frowning at him over the rim of his half-moon glasses.

He thought. He had spent this whole year stressing over this tournament that he hadn't even wanted to be in. Lord Voldemort and Barty Crouch, Jr. had book tried to kill him in quick succession. Cedric Diggory was killed.

"Yeah. I guess I'm alright."

A very pronounced silence followed.

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. I mean, it's all been leading up to this point, right? It'd get repetitive if Lord Voldemort just popped up in some reincarnated form every year. Best just have him looking out there, you know?"

There was another silence.

"Then I suppose you can leave, Harry," Dumbledore said, still sounding unsure.

Harry left.

* * *

Harry spent the first month of that next summer sitting idly, terribly bored, his thoughts plagued by such things as, "I wonder if Ron has gotten over that Viktor Krum thing yet," and "Where do those tropical birds that Sirius gets come from?" and "Maybe Dudley might just kill himself if I open a Twinkie in front of him." 

He was somewhat peeved at Ron and Hermione, annoyed and exasperated, because Hermione was having kittens over Harry's supposed weak mental health and was convinced that he was hiding his insecurities and thoughts over the incident with Voldemort and Cedric Diggory a few weeks before.

Ron wasn't being explicit, but even in his letters he managed to treat Harry like a ticking bomb.

It was all very confusing.

When he finally managed to pick himself out of the rhododendron beds and arrive at Sirius' house, he was just transferred to an uncomfortable, moldy bed and an awkward silence between himself, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny.

The other three sat, tense, apparently waiting for something.

Harry waited, too.

Predictably, Hermione broke the silence.

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Are you... is there anything you need to talk about?"

"What?" Harry thought for a moment. Nothing really of interest had happened in that first month. Oh, wait. "I was attacked by a couple of Dementors. That was pretty cool."

"_Cool_?" Ron.

"Yeah. It's boring over there, you know. TV doesn't hold the same sort of appeal it used to, now that I know how to blow rubbish up."

"But – but you have a hearing on it!" Ginny spluttered out.

"They'll let me off."

"Harry, they hate you!"

"Sticks and stones, Hermione. Sticks and stones."

Harry, of course, was let off, because this plot wouldn't go anywhere if he hadn't been. It didn't surprise him in the least, nor faze him, and he went on with his day. Went back to Grimmauld Place. Dealt with Sirius being a sulky little prick. That was surprisingly easy; Sirius instantly went back to his normal self once Harry had a serious, man-to-man talk with him.

It was almost as if Sirius didn't _want_ to be around Harry anymore. He would pointedly yawn whenever the two of them were in the room together.

But that was just a coincidence.

He spent the rest of the summer perpetually content, offering his congratulations to Ron and Hermione when they got their prefect badges (_Maybe this would do the trick_, he thought) and waving good-bye to everyone when he left for the train.

There were many whispered remarks as he passed people in corridors, both on the train and once he reached Hogwarts, but Harry simply took on the "I'm rubber you're glue" philosophy and all was well.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was, in Harry's opinion, one of the worst-looking, worst-seeming ladies he had ever met. Every time she smiled it gave him the heebie-jeebies. She also seemed to make it a point to try to get a rise out of Harry every time she saw him. It was extremely irritating, but he bit the belt and took it. Nothing good came out of going against a teacher, after all.

It seemed to give her confidence, anyway, and in Harry's opinion she needed as much as she could get, what with the uncanny resemblance to a toad. Eventually she managed to work her way up to being the Headmistress.

On a lighter note, Ron and Hermione kept going at it. Not, of course, in the "going at it like rabbits" way but in the "going at it like a pair of rabid, bloodthirsty wolverines" way. Harry tried to stay out of it, because deep down he knew that eventually it would melt into the "going at it like rabbits" way, which he knew was all that Ron and Hermione wanted in the first place.

Meanwhile, on top of everything else, Harry was having visions that Dumbledore told him was a connection between him and Voldemort. Dumbledore didn't seem to think that Harry understood the full scope of the situation. He did. What if his vision-y talents decided to kick in when Voldemort was taking a shower? Ergh.

He got one late in the year. He had fallen asleep during the History of Magic exams (he supposed if someone even mentioned "History of Magic" in a sentence he'd go off snoring), and it was Sirius being tortured.

It was both embarrassing because he had fallen out of his chair and disturbing because no matter how mild-mannered Harry was, seeing someone get tortured wasn't very pleasant.

This was how he found himself in a room with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna (the latter two being the new additions to their group. Hermione almost convinced him to not listen to the vision, that Voldemort was tricking him... but something in his gut told him to be steadfast and head to the Department of Mysteries. Hermione turned very huffy over it, but she consented all the same.

The trick was getting out of Hogwarts. He managed to encounter basically everyone who didn't like him on the way out – Umbridge, who was delighted when he got a bit tetchy with her; Draco Malfoy and his gang; Snape, who was sneering so prominently his nose looked ready to fall off; and, oddly enough, one of his old primary school teachers whose wigs he had once turned blue.

Nevertheless, being Harry Potter, he managed to evade each and every one of them. He was a Man With A Mission.

After arriving at the Ministry (on Thestrals, no less; he felt compelled to try out Huntseat over the coming summer), he traveled the familiar path down to the Department of Mysteries. When they didn't find Sirius in the Hall of Prophecy, Hermione whacked him very hard on his arm.

"Now look what you did!"

"What?" He cowered under her stare; her hair started to crackle with anger. "I tried my best!"

"You -" _whack_ "-daft-" _whack_ "-IDIOT!" _WHACK._ ("Ow!") "You're worse than Ron!"

"Hey!" Ron interjected.

"What did I tell you?!"

"I don't know _why_ you're freaking out, Hermione, we'll just go back, no harm done -"

"Harry?"

It was Ginny. Harry stopped everything and looked at her. She was examining one of the little pretty glowing balls.

"I found something over here."

Harry made his way over, sparing for the redhead a roguish grin while Ron couldn't see, and saw the little orb labeled _SPT to APWBD, Dark Lord, and (?)Harry Potter_.

"Ooh."

He picked it up.

And you all know what happened.

Later, he was once again sitting in Dumbledore's office waiting for the man to arrive, twiddling his thumbs and looking around at all of the pictures. It had been an eventful, if not tragic, night. Sirius died, which made Harry somewhat sad. On the brighter side, he proved himself right to Hermione. Voldemort tried to possess him, which was downright creepy and not something he'd like to go through again. However, a bunch of Death Eaters (including Malfoy's father) were rounded up, a definite plus.

Harry Potter was so deep in thought that he hardly noticed Albus Dumbledore appearing in the room.

"Now, Harry, I realize you've been through a horrible night..." The old voice was mournful, and it paused, waiting for something.

"...Yes?" he finally asked, wondering what Dumbledore was pausing for.

"Aren't you going to say anything? Harry, your godfather is dead."

"Well, I'm not at my best. But Sirius went as he'd have want to."

Harry wondered why Dumbledore was looking at him like he was insane.

"Erm."

He didn't believe he'd ever heard the Headmaster hesitate before.

"I'll be alright. He was only my godfather. I don't cry because my father died, and, well, he _is_ a bit more important than Sirius, isn't he?"

Once he was kicked out of the office, Harry decided that Dumbledore may possibly be depressed. He made a note to recommend Percocet.

* * *

Harry, thankfully, only spent as much time as he possibly needed to with the Dursleys that coming summer before Dumbledore came to get him. Dumbledore had an aura of suppressed calm about him; Harry made sure the Percocet were in his pocket. 

Once he got to the Burrow (after making a quick detour to visit a man with surprisingly good crystallized pineapple), he wasn't surprised to find that Hermione and Ron were fighting at every chance they got (perhaps he didn't get over that Viktor Krum thing yet), but he _was_ shocked to see Fleur Delacour. There was a welcoming face in the morning.

And, er, other things were welcoming about her too.

Anyhow, Ginny seemed somewhat annoyed that Harry thought that Fleur was quite pretty.

Ginny ended up looking very welcoming in the morning as well.

He supposed that it was going to be a very easy year from him. People believed that he saw Voldemort come back. Ginny had grown up. Despite all their fighting, Harry believed that Ron and Hermione were going to snap out of it and snog already. Dumbledore was being somewhat cryptic, but that shouldn't surprise everyone. He was going to be able to show the whole world that he didn't need parental or otherwise guidance to get him through his life, what with Sirius gone and all.

Looking back, he did admit it was a rather fun year. He learned a lot about Tom Riddle (alias Lord Voldemort), and they were quite interesting lessons with Dumbledore. Unfortunately, the older man took his polite silences as him being bored and not caring and tended to throw Harry out of his office on a weekly basis.

On the downside, teenage drama was at an all-time high and Snape was no longer teaching in his native dungeons. Pity.

By the end of the year, Harry was both very wet, very tired and very disgruntled, for Dumbledore had taken the boy on a field trip to a cave and in the meantime the Death Eaters decided to raid Hogwarts. They couldn't have picked a worse time, in his opinion.

Dumbledore and him were on a tower, Harry leaning in exhaustion against the wall, and all of the sudden Draco Malfoy came tearing up the stares.

Oh, dear.

Harry watched, observing idly, as Malfoy and Dumbledore had a very charged conversation—Malfoy apparently thought he was all cool and secret-y, whereas Dumbledore assured him the contrary. Somewhere during this little intermission, Snape and a few others came up the stairs—(_I knew it!_, Harry thought)—and the Headmaster looked at Harry as if expecting the boy to do something.

Harry looked back.

"Oh, bother, just kill me now, Snape."

And Snape did.

Harry regretted forgetting about that Percocet.

* * *

Harry decided later that he should leave school and find Voldemort himself, for the sake of a change in setting as well as to prove to the world that he didn't have his parents, nor Sirius, nor Dumbledore, nor Hermione's library to help him now. 

Ron and Hermione opted to come along, but Harry was suspicious that this had more to do with the fact that they couldn't stand to be alone together than out of any real loyalty to him.

Oh, well. They provided company. Also, Harry was sure they would get over this phase and get down to it already if he was there to mediate.

It was quite a boring trip, actually. A lot of walking around, occasionally interrupted by Dementor attacks (Hermione found quite a useful way to get rid of them without going through the trouble of a Patronaus—just cast a Cheering Charm on the lot of them and they would spontaneously combust). Hermione and Ron were no longer talking, which didn't faze Harry – this just meant they were in denial. Ginny was sending daily Howlers.

It was all very boring.

Of course, near the end of the year, Harry faced a mortal Voldemort and managed to beat him, because that is how it has to end. Ron and Hermione took the advantage of the confusion of battle and tried to kill each other, which Harry felt was good for them. He couldn't find Ginny anywhere, but she'd turn up.

It was a good day to be a hero.

* * *

After the battle, Ron and Hermione parted ways, and never spoke again. Harry decided that perhaps he should have gotten on their backs a bit more for arguing all the time, but hey, no use trying to drink spilled milk (or however the saying went). 

The _Daily Prophet_ tried to interview him a few times, but gave up every time Harry tried to talk to them of Aunt Petunia's rhododendrons.

Meanwhile, Ginny had a meltdown over Harry's apparent lack of emotion and flounced off to join a metal band. Mrs. Weasley died of shame.

What does Harry think of this?

_Oh well_.

**THE END**


End file.
